Get control of yourself, Warner told himself, attempting to dowse his anger with a cool head. This was not the time to show weakness. In fact. Warner realized that it was a moment to show up the old farmer who possessed no more finesse than the backside of a sow. The muscles in his square jaw worked as he fought back his resentment. Green was nothing but a two-bit political hack from the Missouri backwoods.
Warner pasted a smile on his face, stood up and excused himself
Carolyn shot him a quizzical glance.
Warner whispered to her that he was going to the restroom, then exited the ballroom with a confident stride.
Inside the men’s room, he leaned forward on the sink, staring into the basin. Finally he was angry, and the anger felt good. He lifted his gaze to the bathroom mirror and stared into his own gunmetal gray eyes. It was time to regroup. Time to channel his frustration into positive action. Just a few days ago, Carolyn had asked him where his fight had gone. He hadn’t had an answer then, but now he knew it was back.
“First step,” Warner said to himself, “regain my seat in the Senate.”
Broad shoulders squared, he went straight to the bar in the foyer adjacent to the ballroom. What he needed was a drink. “A shot of Jack Dan-” he began, then caught himself This was not the time to tie one on. “Make that a Perrier with a lime.”
He paid the bartender, then took a long pull of his drink.
“Enjoying yourself, son?”
Warner turned slowly, meeting the older man’s gaze. “I’m not your son.”
“Watch your mouth. Your cheek ain’t too old for the back of my hand.” Edmund glanced at Warner’s glass. “That’s it, have another drink.”
He raised his glass. “I just might. It’s Perrier.”
“Oh. I know you better than that. What is it, vodka or gin?” Edmund threw a ten on the bar. “Have a few on me.”
“What do you want?”
“You need me, son. Don’t let that bitch continue to separate us. Join the Council. Carolyn’s the one you need protection from, not us. We’re behind you. I give you my word. It’s your wife who likes to keep secrets. She’s keeping you from your true supporters, and pulling you around by your dick. Call me when you’re ready to hear the truth.”
“Quit rambling, old man.”
Edmund’s neck flushed. “I ain’t rambling, boy. You’re being as naive and foolish as a virgin attending a slumber party at a whorehouse.”
“That’s priceless. You calling me a virgin among whores.”
“Speaking of whores, ask yours about her partnership with Mort Fields. She’s pulling her panties over your eyes, and making deals behind your back. You tell her she’d better watch her step, or I’ll enjoy watching her fall.”
Warner’s brow furrowed in confusion. “Mort Fields? What-”
“Enjoy your evening, son.” The senior Lane turned and walked away.
Warner had watched those well-staged exits his entire life. He’d always hated them. He hated them even more now, just as he hated Edmund Lane. But was Edmund telling him the truth? Was he, in fact, an ally, in spite of the animosity he inflicted on the man the world thought was his son?
Returning to the ballroom. Edmund Lane made his way between the tables until he reached his own, and took his seat just as Governor Radcliff completed his remarks.
“What did you think of the speech?” Mort Fields asked.
“I didn’t really listen. Radcliff has very little to say that interests me.”
“I’d agree with you there.”
Edmund lowered his voice. “Mort, we need to talk.” He paused. “There’s something that I have to tell you, but it puts me in a bad spot. Puts you in an ugly light too.” Edmund glanced around the table. Everyone was involved in conversation or getting up to dance.
Mort took a sip of his drink, waiting for Edmund to begin.
“I’ve recently learned that you’re the subject of an investigation.” Edmund said, then waited to see Mort’s reaction. There was none.
“It’s not the authorities. It’s a private job.”
Mort swirled the ice in his glass, and stared out at the people on the dance floor. “Who’s investigating?”
“I’m getting to that. It’s one of your partners in the software company.”
Edmund saw Mort’s jaw tighten. Even if he couldn’t shoot Carolyn himself, Edmund thought, he could load the gun and hand the weapon to someone else. If he could effectively neutralize Carolyn, then Warner would join the Council and return to his control. Divide and conquer, he thought.
He’d invested too much in Warner to be cut out now. Edmund believed he had a right to share in Warner’s success. A success in politics that he’d facilitated by grooming his son for years. Hell, he’d begun the Council for the boy. Pooling the resources of rich men in order to influence Warner’s political future in the country was no small feat. Even though the plan was simple. As a coalition, together they’d put Warner in the White House. In return, he would reward them with powerful government posts.
Edmund had promised these men that Warner endorsed the plan. But he’d underestimated Carolyn. The bitch. After Warner’s loss, she’d separated him from his true allies. Now, she dictated his campaign. The situation was intolerable, and Edmund held her responsible. He’d make her sorry she’d ever taken him on as an adversary.
“How do you know about the investors in the deal?” Mort asked after a moment of silence.
“My source informed me. The Council isn’t pleased that you neglected to inform us of your partnership with Carolyn. But that’s not my biggest concern.”
Mort’s gaze locked with Edmund’s. “Are you telling me that Carolyn is having me investigated?” Mort said the words smoothly, but Edmund could hear the anger building.
“I am.”
“And how would you know any of this?”
“My source is the investigator.”
“Why would the investigator tell you?”
“How do you think Carolyn ever came to hiring private investigators? These men were on my payroll first, and their first loyalty is still to me, and now the Council, of course.”
“So, what do you suggest?” Mort asked, his eyes wary.
“I suggest you screw her out of every penny. And do it immediately.”
“You know, I can’t do that.”
Edmund shrugged, but his meaning was not as benign as the gesture suggested. “You can do whatever you like, but the Council is going to demand an accounting of your actions. We trusted you. It looks like you’ve kept a secret. A very important secret. You’re going to have to make things right or this ain’t going to go so well with you.” Edmund took a sip of water.
“I struck that deal before the Council even existed.” Mort said. “She’s a small investor, anyway. I was simply doing her and Warner a favor.”
“You should have been forthright from the beginning. Secrets and surprises aren’t looked upon kindly. I talked to Warner about your little arrangement with Carolyn, and he had no idea you’d made it. She’s playing both of you like fiddles, and neither of you hears the music.”
Mort’s eyes narrowed. “I don’t like what you’re implying.”
“I don’t give a crap what you like. It’s time you wised up. You’re playing by my rules now.” Edmund said. “She’s ruining my son’s career. A career, I might add, that could benefit you greatly. But Warner’s pussy-whipped by the same whore that’s got her hooks into you.”
“That’s not what I hear.” Mort remarked. “He may be pussy-whipped, but it’s not Carolyn he’s sniffing around after.”
“Hearsay ain’t none of your regard,” Edmund said. “A man don’t know he’s been taken until the bitch leaves. And as far as I see it, you been helping her. It’s time she was shut down.”